


Risen Sun

by HumanitysStrongestHope



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin
Genre: Angst, ErenxLevi if you squint, M/M, The alchemist - Freeform, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 23:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11241093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumanitysStrongestHope/pseuds/HumanitysStrongestHope
Summary: Oh,  how dearly he missed him.-Based off of a line from 'The Alchemist'.





	Risen Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a quote from The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. 
> 
> "When each day is the same as the next, it’s because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises.”

The cycle began the day He, his entire world, passed away. The once bubbly and jolly man was now but a rueful, empty shell. Oh, how dearly he missed the incessant ramblings of his avid lover, and the near mania in his eyes as He spoke. He missed the sound of his infectious laugh. He missed his excitement in the morning when He woke up in time to watch the early morning sun rise from the horizon. Oh, how He had always loved the sunrise, the way the rose and lemon hues danced together. The gentle warmth that caressed his skin as the star grew in the sky. The warmth was the same warmth that he had missed, the same warmth that he felt in his lovers embrace. Oh, how dearly he missed him. It was as if when He left, He had stolen the sun and dashed away with it into the heavens. Without his sun, he was frozen in a seemingly never ending twilight; his only solace being the blaring neon lights denoting the entrances of clubs and bars.  
He had always hated those places, the stale smell of cigarette the smoke and the feeling of lusting eyes. Perhaps, it was because He knew. He knew of all he had been through and the sickening feeling of throwing him back into that environment. But, you know, maybe that was why he was here. There weren’t any memories of Him; there was nothing that could break him down further within this prison of alcohol and blaring music. Bars were the near antithesis of Him. 

He. Him. God, how long ago had it been since he had actually spoken His name? He was so afraid of forgetting those four letters, and yet here he was, unable to even mumble them. How pathetic he truly was without Him.  
He glanced down at the glass he held between his fingertips. The honey swirls of whiskey in his glass gave him an odd sense of nostalgia as he drowned his sorrows in the color of his lover’s eyes. This was at least his fifth or maybe eighth glass, but who was counting? He missed his lover so dearly, and found himself drinking himself into a never ending hangover each night, hoping that somehow it would numb the pain. It never did. Nothing ever did.  
He was broken from his trance as he felt the gentle shaking grip of the bartender. It was much later, or technically earlier, than when he usually left. He turned down the bouncer’s offer to call a cab, and began to stumble his way home. Even in his drunken state, he could always find his way home. This was a path he had engraved into his mind after his many trips to and from the bar. As he reached the apartment, he fumbled for his keys and pushed his way inside.  
He did as per usual and flopped down onto the bed to begin sobering up. As he laid down his head, he saw the shafts of the early morning light peering through the shades. He felt the same warmth that he had been so freezing without. Beyond the window was something he hadn’t been brave enough to look at since he lost Him. He gathered himself into an upright position, and despite the throbbing in his head and heart, he tread towards the window. It was a sunrise. He watched the sunrise for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.  
While the swirls of lemon and rose did little to ward off his agony and misery, it gave him enough drive to return the call he had been ignoring.

Nearly an entire year later, he was back on his feet, and while it was a rough and painful journey, he was okay. He was no longer dependent on the release he felt when he drank. And, he was no longer afraid to watch the sunrise. In fact, he awoke every morning in time to watch it. He was even able to get his job back at the small, flower shop. It took him a little while to get back in the groove of things, but they were all glad just to see him well, considering the reasons he left. He was okay, and that was what mattered. He felt the safest here, even surrounded by false, smiling faces that attempted to hide the worried glances and pained eyes. After all, everyone knew what had happened to Him.  
Oh, right. That was the one thing he was still working on. Him. Thought, that was battle that he was seemingly never going to win. A bridge he would never be able to cross. 

Eventually, he took over the old, flower shop. The darling, older woman who had owned it before was growing old and could no longer take care of the shop herself. The shop wasn't much, but it was all he had left. It was where they had met and where their lives became intertwined. It was where fate decided they belonged, in each other's arms in the small, near-crumbling, flower shop. Because of this, he had been very delighted to take over the store. You know, He had loved flowers... almost as much as He loved the sunrise. Oh, how dearly he cared for the pastel petals, and the story that each one held. He loved bouquet, especially ones of roses, and the way that each one had a special meaning.  
He tried to implement that same meaning into the shop. He put the same dedication of his lover into each and every arrangement. In all his thirty-some years, only recently did he release that if you can’t see the beauty and love in the life unfolding around you, then you aren't truly living.  
He had learned something else, that those four letters shouldn't be what holds you back, but what empowers you. Loses should not be something to hide, and mourning should not be something you regret. And as he saw his shop, Eren’s Rose, glowing in the warmth of the newly risen sun, he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for taking the time to read this!! I'm new at a actually writing fics I usually just read them!! 
> 
> ❤️


End file.
